Chapter 15

“Shall we say hello?”

The hunter’s eyes widened the moment he recognized Nam Shin-hoo. He had only caused a scene hoping to meet someone from HR, but an absolute titan of the industry had suddenly appeared. Hastily rubbing his eyes, the man bowed his head low.

I’m ruined. That was the only thought running through his mind.

Who was the man standing before him? It was Nam Shin-hoo—an S-Rank Hunter with the greatest influence in the nation and the leader of its strongest guild.

On top of that, Shin-hoo was famous for other reasons: an immaculate track record without a single controversy in years, and an infamous reputation for being especially ruthless toward fellow hunters.

“N-no, um… I’m, I’m sorry. The thing is…”

His voice trembled uncontrollably. Squeezing his eyes shut, the man dropped flat onto the pavement.

“I-I wasn’t trying to cause trouble! I was just so desperate. I have… urgent family matters…!”

“I see. You certainly looked in a rush.”

“Y-yes! I’m not usually this kind of person…”

“You must have a good reason to be in such a hurry. That means you should pass quickly and get straight to work.”

“I’ll never do this agai—… Huh?”

Gwan Seung-ya, the legendary phantom thief.

Originally a B-Rank Hunter, he was a figure who would later reawaken as an A-Rank after finding a rare stroke of luck in a dungeon.

Armed with a dissolution ability that rendered any security system useless and exceptional stealth skills, he became notorious for looting all sorts of major guilds. When it came to gathering intelligence, he was unmatched by any other hunter.

In the past, Gwan Seung-ya had shouted during a news broadcast:

‘Why do I only target major guilds? Because they make me sick! They judge people however they please and act so noble. I’ll get revenge on the bastards who failed to recognize my worth and rejected me!’

He had shown intense hostility specifically toward large guilds. Once, Evil Nine even had half of their assets cleared out by him.

Eventually arrested, Gwan Seung-ya gave a fiery interview, broke out of prison right after, and became known as a legendary phantom thief.

‘I had no idea he was this timid in person.’

His personality didn’t matter. What mattered was the present.

Though he was infamous as a master thief in his previous life…

“I’ll be in your care from now on, Hunter Gwan Seung-ya.”

Shin-hoo smiled brightly and extended a hand toward the man lying pathetically on the ground.

“Since we’re guildmates now, I’ll speak casually. That fine with you?”

In this life, he would become a precious guild member who brought invaluable intelligence straight to Shin-hoo.

After hiring Gwan Seung-ya, Shin-hoo combed through every single resume submitted to the Saint Guild. He re-examined even the applications that had failed the initial document screening, having realized what he could do right now.

‘Why didn’t I think of this sooner?’

It was the fastest way to prepare for the future.

Shin-hoo went through hundreds of rejected resumes one by one, sorting out anyone whose face seemed even slightly familiar. It was an effort to pick out individuals who might not stand out now, but would become major assets later.

For hunters he remembered from bad news or those likely to turn to crime if left alone, he designated them as special-support targets and provided stipends so they could make a living.

Time slipped by as he wrestled with the paperwork. He finally finished the task after a week of surviving on less than three hours of sleep a day.

“Phew…”

My head hurts a bit.

Shin-hoo brushed his forehead. A mild fever radiated from his skin, slick with cold sweat.

An S-Rank Hunter suffering from overwork—it was almost too embarrassing to admit to anyone.

“Shin-hoo. You don’t look well.”

“I’m just a little tired. I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

“…”

Kang-hyun’s expression turned odd.

His reaction was natural. It was impossible for an S-Rank Hunter’s body to break down from just one week of hard work.

‘This doesn’t seem to be from the paperwork.’

Knowing the real cause, Shin-hoo avoided Kang-hyun’s eyes.

His health had deteriorated rapidly because of the injury from the Gyeongju dungeon. Although he had extracted the embedded magic stone, the toxic residue left behind continued to disrupt his nervous system.

The stone in his shoulder had already begun taking root in his blood vessels when he sealed the surface without properly purging the poison inside. The substance that dug in had remained in his bloodstream, causing adverse reactions.

‘Even so, it’s healing strangely slowly.’

No matter how stubborn the poison was, this was the body of an S-Rank Hunter. He thought it would clear up in a few days, but the toxin lingered relentlessly, tormenting him.

“Why not visit the medical bay instead?”

“It’s not that serious. It wouldn’t do any good for guild morale if the Guild Master checked into the infirmary for overwork. You understand that, don’t you?”

“…I suppose so.”

He appreciated the concern, but going to the infirmary was out of the question. Seeking treatment meant having to explain the injury from the Gyeongju dungeon.

Unable to share the details, Shin-hoo was stuck clumsily blaming his condition on overwork.

“Rest for the time being, then. I’ll cancel all your schedules.”

“Please do. And take care of training the new recruits for me.”

“I’m already busy with that. We hired more than twice the planned number of recruits, and their classes are so varied that we have to restructure the entire curriculum.”

“Ha, haha. Sorry about that. But they’ll be useful later.”

“Since you did it, you must have your reasons.”

Kang-hyun stood up from his seat. Compared to his deep sigh earlier, his acceptance was clean and straightforward.

He never asked for reasons behind Shin-hoo’s sudden changes in behavior or baffling actions. Though he occasionally vented or voiced objections, he ultimately followed Shin-hoo’s lead on any command, no matter how hard it was to understand.

That was why he had faithfully obeyed the order to block Shin-hoo’s front until his dying breath in the previous life.

Looking at his retreating back, the image of his corpse in that past life—gripping a blood-stained shield with his eyes still open—suddenly surfaced.

“Kang-hyun. Hey…”

“What is it?”

“If I ever order you to do something that feels genuinely too hard, refuse it. If you feel like you can’t do it, just say no. You can ignore what I say.”

“…”

Kang-hyun’s face twisted in displeasure. Annoyance crept into the eyes that usually remained calm in any situation. Loosening his necktie with a finger, Kang-hyun spoke.

“You’re saying strange things. As if I’d ever refuse your orders just because training a few rookie hunters is hard.”

“I’m not talking about this assignment. Just… if something truly dangerous or unbearable comes up in the future, make sure to refuse.”

“That’s what’s so strange. For me, nothing is harder than failing to follow your words.”

“…”

“You really must be sick. I’ll have a light meal prepared for today, so make sure you eat properly.”

“Alright.”

With those parting words, Kang-hyun walked out. Left alone, Shin-hoo scratched his cheek. Feeling unwell seemed to be making his mind soft. He already knew saying such things to Kang-hyun was completely useless.

Besides, telling him to refuse felt like shifting the blame for his own misjudgments onto someone else.

Shin-hoo pressed his palms lightly against both cheeks.

“Pull yourself together.”

Shin-hoo was the only one who knew the future. Since he had decided not to burden others, he had to be the one to change. Guiding everyone along a path where no one was hurt or sacrificed was solely his responsibility. He had no time to grow weak and speak nonsense to Kang-hyun. If Kang-hyun was someone who would always carry out Shin-hoo’s orders, then Shin-hoo just had to ensure he gave the right ones.

‘Keep it in mind. I haven’t changed anything yet.’

He had achieved very little since returning to the past. He had barely managed to save Kwon Shin-joo and secure a few stray hunters within the guild. Hae-joo himself hadn’t changed in the slightest.

If the distance between Shin-hoo and Hae-joo remained the same, these minor changes were meaningless.

He knew from the start it wouldn’t be easy, which meant he had to try harder. He needed to create more contact points and fix his relationship with Hae-joo.

Yet even thinking about it felt bleak. In their current state, changing things between them seemed impossible.

Just as Shin-hoo was sighing inwardly, the door suddenly swung open.

“Sorry. I wanted to let you rest today, but an urgent matter came up.”

It was Kang-hyun. Shin-hoo thought he might have brought some snacks, but that wasn’t it. Returning empty-handed, he crossed his arms with an annoyed look.

“You told me to inform you immediately about anything concerning Kwon Hae-joo, right?”

“Did something happen to him?”

Shin-hoo scrambled up from the bed. Did something happen to Hae-joo while I looked away for just a moment? Seeing Shin-hoo’s pale face, Kang-hyun shook his head.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then what is it?”

“Kwon Hae-joo requested a meeting.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what prompted such an arrogant request, but he says he wants to meet you in private. Today, right now.”

Something he had thought impossible had suddenly happened.